laughed low. And ever as she
whispered, the spoken words of the two in the shut bed grew fainter and
more faint, till at length they died away, and a silence fell upon the
place.

"Thou hast no cause to fear the sword of Eric, Gizur," she said.
"Nothing will wake him now till daylight comes."

"Thou art awesome!" answered Gizur, for he shook with fear. "Look not on
me with those flaming eyes, I pray thee!"

"Fear not," she said, "the fire is out. Now to the work."

"What must we do, then?"

"_Thou_ must do this. Thou must enter and slay Eric."

"That I can not--that I will not!" said Gizur.

She turned and looked at him, and lo! her eyes began to flame
again--upon his eyes they seemed to burn.

"Thou wilt do as I bid thee," she said. "With Eric's sword thou shalt
slay Eric, else I will curse thee where thou art, and bring such evil on
thee as thou knowest not of."

"Look not so, Swanhild," he said. "Lead on--I come."

Now they creep into the shut chamber of Gudruda. It is so dark that they
can see nothing, and nothing can they hear except the heavy breathing of
the sleepers.

This is to be told, that at this time Swanhild had it in her mind
to kill, not Eric but Gudruda, for thus she would smite the heart of
Brighteyes. Moreover, she loved Eric, and while he lived she might yet
win him; but Eric dead must be Eric lost. But on Gudruda she would be
bitterly avenged--Gudruda, who, for all her scheming, had yet been a
wife to Eric!

Now they stand by the bed. Swanhild puts out her hand, draws down the
clothes, and feels the breast of Gudruda beneath, for Gudruda slept on
the outside of the bed.

Then she searches by the head of the bed and finds Whitefire which hung
there, and draws the sword.

"Here lies Eric, on the outside," she says to Gizur, "and here is
Whitefire. Strike and strike home, leaving Whitefire in the wound."

Gizur takes the sword and lifts it. He is sore at heart that he must do
such a coward deed; but the spell of Swanhild is upon him, and he may
not flinch from it. Then a thought takes him and he also puts down his
hand to feel. It lights upon Gudruda's golden hair, that hangs about her
breast and falls from the bed to the ground.

"Here is woman's hair," he whispers.

"No," Swanhild answers, "it is Eric's hair. The hair of Eric is long, as
thou hast seen."

Now neither of them knows that Gudruda cut Eric's locks when he lay sick
on Mosfell, though Swanhild knows well that it is